s. See if we cannot find a pair of
great brown eyes peering out at us from some of the thickets," suggested
Madame.

"Charming! If only we might see one! How young this nation is, after
all, when aboriginal deer roam the woods within fifty miles of Boston!"

"But without game-laws they will soon be exterminated. A great many are
shot every winter, and the farmers complain bitterly of those that
remain. Some of their crops are quite ruined by the deer, they say,"
remarked Monsieur.

"Never mind. There are plenty of crops, and but very few deer. I
pronounce for the game-laws," recklessly declared Miselle.

But the impending battle of political economy was averted by Madame's
exclamation of,--

"See, here is Sacrifice Rock. Let us stop and look at it a moment."

Gypsy and Fanny, wild with the sparkling upland air, were with
difficulty persuaded to halt opposite a great flat granite boulder,
sloping from the skirt of the forest toward the road, and nearly covered
with pebbles and bits of decayed wood.

"It is Sacrifice Rock," explained Monsieur. "From the days of the
Pilgrims to our own, no Indian passes this way without laying some
offering upon it. It would have been buried long ago, but that the
spring and autumn winds sweep away all the lighter deposits. You would
find the hollow at its back half filled with them. Once there may have
been human sacrifices,--tradition says so, at least; but now there is
seldom anything more precious than what you see."

"But to what deity were the offerings made?"

"Some savage Manitou, no doubt, but no one can say with certainty
anything about it. The degenerate half-breeds who live in this vicinity
only keep up the custom from tradition. They are called Christians now,
you know, and are quite above such idolatrous practices."

"At any rate, I will add my contribution to this altar of an unknown
God. Besides, there are some blackberries that I must have," exclaimed
Optima, releasing her active limbs from the carriage in a very summary
fashion.

Tossing a little stick upon the rock, she hastened to gather the
abundant fruit, a little for herself, a good deal for Madame and
Miselle, until Gypsy and Fanny stamped and neighed with impatience, and
Monsieur cried cheerily,--

"Come, young woman, come! We are not half-way to Sandwich, and the
horses will be devoured by these flies as surely as Bishop Hatto was by
mice."

And so on through miles of merry woodland, by fields and